Through The Dot Of An i
by Eclectic1
Summary: Solid Snake and Otacon are attempting to obtain an important document by spying from afar in a delivery van. Otacon is hard at work, but Snake is bored and full of sugar. Rated M for some yaoi goodness and use of the word "tittle". More chapters to come.


Disclaimer::: I don't own these characters. Nope. Wish I did.

Otacon peeped out of the small hole in the side of their delivery van, scanning the outside city street for any sign of other individuals. The outside of the van (said van acquired through some careful "negotiating" aka "roughhousing" aka "neck-cracking" on Solid Snake's part) featured a large, appetizing image of Twinkies, scourge of dieters everywhere. The inside had been altered to Otacon's specifications to form a super-secret hideaway vehicle full of various spying and tracking equipment. The hole that Otacon was peeping from appeared to be the tittle in one of the i's on a bumper sticker stating: How's My Driving? Call 1-800-WECARE.

"Okay, so far so good…." Otacon glanced from the van hole to a laptop perched on his knees, typed away for a few beats, then quickly looked through the hole once again. "Great job planting the tracking device on that guy's jacket, Snake….looks like he's heading up to the third floor right now. I think this is going to work."

"Yippee." Snake rumbled from the opposite corner, where he was currently sitting on two sturdy boxes full of Twinkies. He reached into the box currently supporting his muscular frame, digging around until he pulled out…..you guessed it…a Twinkie. He popped open the Twinkie's crinkly clear-plastic prison and released the sugary treat contained therein, immediately shoving said creamy-cakey goodness into his mouthparts.

"Man…." Snake mumble-chewed, "I am getting SO tired of these Twinkies. I've had, what, 6….7 Twinkies in the three hours we've been sitting here?" He glanced at the pile of discarded wrappers to the left of his box-seat.

He glanced thoughtfully over at Otacon, also perched on his own box-seat. "That's a_ lotta_ Twinkie."

Otacon took the time to throw Snake a pathetic glance before going back to his work. "What is WRONG with you??! Stop eating the damn Twinkies!! Just because they're there doesn't mean you have to eat them!!"

Snake rested his chin in his palm lazily, elbow balancing on his knee, "I ran out of smokes this morning, and you were in too much of a friggin' hurry to let me run in the gas station."

"So?" Otacon mumbled, glasses reflecting untold mysteries from the depths of his computer screen.

"You KNOW how I get when I don't have any cigs."

"Ohhh lordy, do I ever know…." Otacon muttered mainly to himself, fingers tapping madly on the keyboard. "You ate all ten packs of Ramen last week when we couldn't leave the apartment for that one afternoon…and you swore left and right that you hated the chicken flavor….."

Solid yawned. _Man_, he was bored.

"…those were ALL chicken flavor except for two…"

There was nothing to do; he was incredibly tired of the limited exercises that he could perform in this cramped van, and he was out of cigarettes.

"You KNOW chicken is _my_ favorite flavor…"

Snake grinned, and it was probably for the best that Otacon wasn't facing him directly to view said grinning.

"Otacon. Let's _fuck_."

"What? Didn't hear-" Otacon abruptly stopped typing, fumbling with and nearly dropping his laptop in the process.

"W-WHAAAAAAAAAT???!! NO! No, Snake, NOT right here! We're in the middle of something!

Snake slid off of his box pile nonchalantly, "No…we're ABOUT to be in the middle of 'something'".

"And I told you to stop pronouncing 'fuck' like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like….you know….all _italicized_."

"How?" Snake mused, walking towards Otacon. He leaned behind the hacker, pressing his lips to the other man's ear, "Like…._fuck_?" he breathed, " Let's _fuck_?"

A tremble went through Otacon's body. An uncontainable noise (sounding irrevocably like Beeker from _The Muppet Show)_ escaped his throat.

Snake's hands went up, inside Otacon's shirt, grazing over his stomach and ribs. He found Otacon's nipples, squeezing them hard enough to make Otacon cry out.

"S-Snake…" He turned his head to view the other man's face, which was a bit-too-close for comfort, "What if someone hears something and sees us…you know…through the _tittle hole_…?"

It was a pretty ridiculous idea; they were in a semi-abandoned part of town at a time of night when few people would be out anyway. The building and people that they were currently spying on were all located safely around the corner.

"Well…" Snake grinned a bit maliciously, "Sounds like a good deal for them, huh?" He sucked on Otacon's neck, resulting in pleasurable noisings from his van mate.

"Snake…I'm WORKING here!!"

"You don't have to stop," Snake mumbled against Otacon's skin, "Just let me do all the work." He ran one hand down Otacon's chest and used the other to start unzipping his own pants. It would take a minute, being that there were several annoying layers to the sneaking suit that he was wearing.

"EXSCUSE me??!" Otacon balanced his laptop on one knee and did his best to slap Snake's hand away from the inside of his tee-shirt.

Snake grabbed Otacon's chin, turning his head to face him.

"Are you saying that you're not up to it?" His expression was serious, challenging, and oh-so-cocky.

Otacon's eyes widened with stark disbelief. "I can complete my objectives…under _any_ circumstances…"

"Well, how about being-fucked-by-a-deadly-stealth-spy-circumstances?"

Otacon sweatdropped, "I don't think that counts as a set of 'circumstances'…"

"In _Snake_'s book it does." He started undoing Otacon's belt with one hand. He was down to the last zipper on his own pants.

"And stop referring to yourself in third person! It's weird!" He reached down to intercept Snake's belt unbuckling mission. It was pretty difficult, being that he was still holding onto the laptop with his other hand. The situation was impossibly stacked in the other man's favor, being that Snake was obviously the stronger of the two spies.

Otacon's belt buckle, after a valiant struggle and getting caught two times, gave up the fight and flopped helplessly open. Not beaten yet, the programmer reached behind his back and began zipping and buckling Snake's pants back into place.

"Dammit!" Snake rumbled. Just as Otacon thought Snake was ready to give up, he found himself caught hopelessly off guard when his companion kicked one of the boxes out from under him. Otacon uttered a high-pitched "YEEP!" and grabbed the laptop with both hands to prevent any damage.

The hacker landed, immediately confused by the sensation of a new seating arrangement.

Oh; this was just _GREAT._

He was now sitting in Snake's lap.

Somehow, Snake had slid under Otacon in the second-or-two that he'd been suspended in the air from having the box kicked out from under him. Snake was now sitting on the box that Otacon had expected to land on.

Otacon glanced down at the semi-neglected computer screen. The target was moving. This might be the moment that they'd been waiting for.

"Snake…" He squirmed on Snake's lap, realizing how firmly aware Snake was of the situation. "The target is moving."

"Hmm?" He wrapped his strong arms tightly around Otacon's otaku waist, peering over his shoulder at the computer screen. "Has he reached the first floor hallway yet? Doesn't look like it."

"Uhhm…no, not yet…looks like he's hesitating a bit at the doorway there…" He pointed a shaky finger at the screen.

"Oh, ok. Good." Snake reached under Otacon's ass to undo the zippers that the hacker had hastily re-fastened.

Snake licked a trail down the back of Otacon's neck, causing his hips to jerk involuntarily. He could feel the other man growing increasingly impatient underneath him.

"I can't take much more of this," Snake growled in his ear. Otacon fought against the horrible urge to drop the computer and melt into a helpless puddle at Snake's feet. But that, of course, wasn't what Snake wanted. Otacon had just agreed that he could complete a mission under "any" circumstances.

Solid-and _oh man_, the otaku thought, _he certainly WAS "solid"-_ unzipped Otacon's fly and tugged his pants down to his knees. Otacon made a decent attempt at balancing the computer with one hand and tugging his pants back up with the other.

"Otacon, can you move your ass a little to the side for a second? I'm trying to get into position here."

"NO! Who said I was helping you??! My ass is staying right here!" Otacon shot him a defiant glare and immediately went back to his computer screen.

"Hey Dav-I mean Snake, looks like the target will be in position in a matter of minutes! He should have the document on him that we've been waiting for." He'd gotten so used to using his friend's first name at this point that it seemed pretty silly to keep calling him by his codename, but that was what they'd agreed to just in case someone happened to be listening in on their conversation.

"Oh, ok. I'll be back soon."

And then he was gone, silently creeping down the street they were parked in towards the target building.

Otacon frowned. How could he turn it on and off like that? It was a bit disconcerting, how he could instantly shove everything else aside for the sake of his primary objective. The otaku carefully placed his computer on the van's floor. He pulled up, zipped and re-buckled his pants, trying his best to put any erotic imaginings on the back burner for the time being.

He wasn't having very much success with the latter.

"Oop," Otacon said, picking up his laptop, "I hope that Snake remembered to zip up his fly. I didn't notice him do it before he left…"


End file.
